GOSSIP GIRL: Seeing Blair Waldorf
Title: Seeing Blair Waldorf
Author: ladyknight_fic
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters: Chuck Bass, Blair Waldorf
Pairing: Chuck/Blair
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Summary: Her face was perfectly Blair's in miniature. The Cupid's bow lips opened in a tiny yawn and Chuck felt his stomach drop. His whole world shifted and then tipped. "Amelia Marguerite Waldorf-Bass."
Spoilers: Seasons 1 and 2
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 3955
Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Gossip Girl books or TV series. These characters are the property of the CW Network and I am not profiting from their use in any way.
A/N: This is the oneshot prequel to Chasing Butterflies. They can be read in any order, but you don't have to read both.
- - -
Chuck Bass had never really seen Blair Waldorf until the night of the first Victrola victory party.
He had looked. Of course, he had looked, but what had he seen? Pale skin…brown hair…brown eyes…a cunning mind…an ally…Nate’s girlfriend…Serena’s best friend…Queen B. Nothing impressive.
If Nate hadn’t had a prior claim, he supposed he would have tried something with her, just because he was Chuck Bass and that was what he did. But Nate did have a prior claim, so he had left her alone.
They were two different types of people, from two different worlds, and it was all summed up in their names. She was a Waldorf, old-money, respected, admired. He was a Bass, the new kid on the block, the playboy, the boozer. They were opposites and, despite the opposites attract principle he remembered from school, she was repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Someone had to make school life interesting.
“Where’s Nate?”
“I think we just broke up.”
There had been a strange mixture of shock and despair on her face as she said the words. But there was defiance as well, and Chuck knew she would be less circumspect about her usual alcohol limit when she entered the club. But that was fine by him. He’d be a hypocrite if he began spouting about the dangers of using alcohol to dull pain. So he had followed her in. He was the host of this party, but he was going to stick to her side like glue the whole night. She needed someone to watch out for her and Nate wasn’t that person anymore. Serena was probably over in Brooklyn with Cabbage Patch.
And though he didn’t know then exactly what he had set in motion just by letting her enter Victrola, he knew that looking out for her didn’t bother him. He did like Blair after all, even if she was too uptight for his tastes.
She had grabbed a bottle of champagne and planted herself on the couch right in front of the stage. She surprised him when she proceeded to drink with sips only slightly larger than her usual measured ones. Maybe alcohol wouldn’t be her outlet that night after all.
He leant back and slumped against the couch back, while she sat forward on the edge. Her gaze was riveted on the dancers, almost as if she was fascinated by them and what they were doing.
“You’re ten times hotter than any of those girls.”
He wasn’t lying. The women on stage had nothing on the girl beside him. If he was honest, not even Serena could match Blair. Serena was all sunshine and energy and hair. Blair, on the other hand, was more subdued, darker, and easier to overlook. But Chuck liked that about her. She forced people to notice.
“You really don’t think I’ll go up there.”
“I know you won’t do it.”
He said it to challenge her, although a part of him truly believed what he said. She was Blair Waldorf after all, it wasn’t in her to get up on stage in a burlesque club and dance for everyone watching.
When she put down her champagne flute and jumped up, he was surprised to find himself proud of her. She was committed now; she wouldn’t back out.
He wasn’t disappointed. She bounded up the steps and faced the crowd. She swayed gently with the music and slowly pulled her headband out of her hair. The cheers of the crowd grew louder when she flung the jewel-studded material towards him.
She reached for the zipper of her dress and Chuck sat forward. She wouldn’t…would she? But she did. Smoothly, tauntingly, she pulled the zip down and let the dress fall to the floor.
Chuck knew his jaw had dropped a little, but he didn’t care. He grabbed his champagne and stood, unable to take his eyes off her. Standing in just her slip, she turned her back to the crowd, raised her arms and increased the movement of her hips.
She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes.
“Watch me,” those eyes seemed to say. “I’m doing it and people are enjoying it. You are enjoying it. Can you see? I told you so.”
“Who’s that girl?”
“I have no idea.”
And he hadn’t. He really, truly hadn’t. The girl on the stage wasn’t Blair, not the Blair he knew, not the Blair Nate and Serena knew, not the Blair her mother knew. She was a stranger, but he liked her, her boldness, her seductiveness, her confidence.
But it was Blair, he had to remind himself, the Blair that was always simmering away just under the surface but never came out to play for fear of disapproval. No one had ever seen this Blair but him and that made his stomach flip.
He gulped and Blair must have seen it because she smiled cheekily. She must have known what affect she was having on him.
He took a fortifying gulp of champagne and Blair, with half-hooded eyes, slid into a crouch. She ran a hand up her bare leg and grabbed the beads dangling around her neck. She twirled them around and over her fingers and then grinned, straight at him.
He grinned back, because there was no way he couldn’t. That look of shock and despair that she’d had when she got out of the limo was gone. She was actually having fun, being free. She was happy. He, Chuck Bass, had given her that. Not Nate, not Serena. Him.
She continued dancing and, when she was done, bounding back off the stage to huge applause. She stood before him and he handed her, her champagne. They clinked glasses and drank, and she laughed as she held out her glass and he topped it up.
They were both drunk when they got in the limo at the end of the night. Not stumbling around, slurring words drunk, but drunk enough.
“You were amazing out there.”
Chuck didn’t offer compliments when they weren’t due, but there was no denying that Blair deserved it. He knew that, for the rest of his life, he’d remember the performance she’d put on. How could he not? The real Blair, the one he’d got to see, was the Blair he wanted.
She slid across the seat and he raised his eyes to see her.
Her skin, not just pale, but soft and smooth; her hair, not brown, but chocolate-coloured and thick; her eyes, still brown, but smouldering now and deep enough to lose himself in; a cunning mind that matched his own and could run him ragged; an ally, a friend; Nate’s girlfriend, but not anymore, because stupid Nathaniel had been too blind to see her, to appreciate her; Serena’s best friend, but Serena wasn’t here now, he was; Queen B…no, not Queen B, just…Blair.
He leant in first. He wanted to kiss her, more than he’d wanted to kiss any other girl in his life.
She tasted like champagne and strawberries.
It lasted just a moment and the hand he didn’t realise she’d grabbed tightened around her small fingers.
“You sure?”
Their gazes locked; he had to know that she wanted this. It had to be her choice because it meant everything to her, and if he went ahead and she hated him forever, he’d never be able to live with himself.
Her answer was in her kiss. It was forceful and decided; there was no hesitation.
He touched her everywhere and sighed when her fingers tangled in his hair. He was gentle and held her hand the entire time. And when it was over and she had gone up to her apartment, he knew that he wasn’t going ready give her up, not just yet, not when she fit so perfectly in his arms.
The next night, at her birthday party, he’d wanted to kill Nate for making her so sad again. Even if a part of him was glad that Nate really was out of the game, the sight of her tears made his stomach clench painfully.
When he went into the bedroom to give her the necklace, he honestly didn’t expect to sleep with her. He was there to comfort her, to make her happy again, like he had the night before. But when she turned to him again, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.
That was when the pattern started. In public, they would behave almost exactly the same as they always had. There was less bickering, yes, and maybe a little more ignoring, because if they paid too much attention to each other they were likely to give away whatever it was that had sprung up between them.
Behind closed doors was a different matter entirely. He showed her all sorts of things, and she learnt some on her own. She learnt, for example, that she had him wrapped around her little finger, at least when they were in bed. He couldn’t do anything that wouldn’t please her.
“You don’t want Nate to find out, and I don’t want anyone to.”
The secrecy didn’t bother him, at least not at first. Half of him wanted to be a good friend and not hurt Nate, but the other half wanted everyone to know that she belonged to him now.
He knew she must have been ashamed of him when she wouldn’t let him escort her to Cotillion, even though he offered “just as a friend”. When she still refused, he had told her that it was better that way, and reminded himself that he couldn’t afford to make Nate suspicious anyway. Her eagerness to go along with him, though, had cut like a knife.
That should have been the first clue.
He never wanted to ruin her Cotillion, he just wanted to throw Nate off the scent so they could go on as they had. But everything had backfired. Maybe he should have told her what he was doing, but how was he to know she’d react so badly?
When he saw her with Nate, there was nothing else to do but leave. The thought of them together made him sick.
That was the second clue, but he missed that too.
He had her, he lost her, he had her, he lost her. It was endless, and during those times when she was his, he dreaded waking up every morning. He knew the end was coming again, and then it would be weeks before she’d even look at him, months before they spoke.
Senior year was hell. When she brought that English idiot to New York Chuck knew it was only a matter of time before she sent him packing again. But the waiting…
Even just watching her faun over him at the White Party was too much. But then she’d given him the chance.
“Three words, eight letters. Say it, and I’m yours.”
She would forgive what he’d done to her, if he could just say what she needed to hear. But he couldn’t. Not then.
The second pattern began. The competition, always trying to get the other to give in.
“I love you.”
She said it, out loud, for anyone to hear. But he didn’t want to hear it then, when his father had just died. Everyone he loved left him. His mother, his father. Blair would too, given time, and he couldn’t bear that. So he turned away, hurt her before she could hurt him.
He had given in, in the end. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to fight her. So he went, and Dorota let him in, and Blair came, and she held him, just like he’d wanted her to.
“I’m sorry for everything. You deserve much better. Don’t come looking for me.”
He lost her again, because he gave her up. He was in a downward spiral, he could tell. He had to leave, save her from being dragged down with him. If they were both down there in the darkness, how would they get out again? He would need her later, to help him out, but for now, he had to keep her away from anything that could hurt her, and that included him.
“I’ll always be here. I don’t want you going anywhere. I couldn’t bear it. Whatever you want to do to yourself…please don’t do that to me.”
Chuck was right. Maybe Uncle Jack had been the one to retrieve him but it was Blair who reached down into the abyss, pulled him out and set him on his feet. It was Blair who fought for him and stood beside him.
And he repaid her how?
“I’m done.”
When the bouquet of peonies hit the floor of the lift and the doors closed, blocking her from view, he knew it was time to grow up. He had lost everything and no one could make things right but him.
He worked hard, he made amends, he helped his friends. Suddenly people liked him again, maybe even respected him. Finally, he was doing something right.
“Every time I try to move on, you’re there.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Look down deep, into the soul I know you have, and tell me if what you feel for me is real, or if it’s just a game.”
He knew he had grown up when he let her go. Sitting at that bar, Georgina in the other room, Blair with tears in her eyes, he let her go.
If he broke her heart then, he didn’t let himself worry about it. It hurt her, yes, but it would be nothing compared to what else he could do, what he had already done. Nate was, had always been, the better choice for her. Nate couldn’t hurt her like Chuck could.
But Nate couldn’t make her happy like Chuck could either, which was why Chuck sabotaged Prom. Even if she wasn’t part of his life anymore, he needed to make her happy. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t know it was him. It didn’t matter that she would be leaving with Nate and spending the night with him. It didn’t matter that Blair and Nate would get married and have kids, so long as she was happy.
She didn’t marry Nate, though.
“I love you too.”
She married him.
Chuck leaned his head back against the hospital wall and tightened the grip he had on his coffee.
It was hard to believe that everything they’d been through had led to this.
He glanced down the hallway and watched Serena battle with the twins’ baby carriage. Twins. No had been able to believe it. Still, Jack and Ella were good kids.
Chuck mouth pulled to the side. As good as kids just two months old could be anyway. As far as he was concerned, all they seemed to do was make mess and cry. When he’d stupidly said that out loud to Blair he’d received a cuff around the ear and the stern warning that if he ever said that about their child, he’d be sleeping on the couch for the next ten years.
But Chuck knew that no child of theirs would be messy and noisy. Both he and Blair had been very accommodating children, perfection personified. That hadn’t lasted, of course, but that wasn’t their fault.
He raised the cheap Styrofoam cup in his hand and eyed it. Pursing his lips, Chuck took a small sip of coffee and wanted to gag. The liquid had the same texture as sludge, and tasted about as good.
The sound of footsteps reached Chuck’s ears and he looked up again.
“What are you doing down here by yourself?” Nate asked.
Chuck shrugged. “Reminiscing.”
Nate glanced at the closed door on Chuck’s other side. “Aren’t you going to go in?”
Chuck glanced at the door as well and chuckled. “I guess I’ll have to soon. If I don’t, she’ll come out here looking for me, even though the doctors told her to stay in bed.”
Now Nate looked confused. “But…don’t you want to go in?”
“Of course, but don’t you see?” Chuck pushed away from the wall and flung the full cup of coffee into a trash can on the opposite side of the hall. He turned back to Nate. “Out here things are as much the same as they’ve ever been. The moment I go in there,” and he pointed at Blair’s private room, “I’ll be a father. A father, Nathaniel. That’s…”
He let out a ragged breath and tugged at his tie while Nate nodded sympathetically.
“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s crazy that we’re all gonna be parents. I mean, Serena and Dan already are, and now you and Blair, and Jenny…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Rufus forgiven you yet?”
Chuck was, of course, referring to Jenny’s very unexpected and very unplanned pregnancy. Nate, who had always liked and respected Rufus, had been filled with terror at the thought of having to tell him what had happened. Jenny had only added to those feelings when she’d said that marriage wasn’t necessary just yet and had refused Nate’s offer on the grounds that he shouldn’t have to ask just because they were having a kid. Though Jenny was now at the end of her fifth month, Nate had yet to look Rufus in the eye.
“‘Forgive’ might be too strong a word. I think he’s moved into the acceptance phase, though.”
Chuck nodded and his gaze wandered to the still closed door. Nate clapped him on the shoulder.
“Go in and see her. You know you want to.”
Nate turned and strolled back to the rest of the group and Chuck approached the door. He set his hand on the handle and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly and then took another.
His hand tightened and he swallowed. “Come on, Bass,” he said softly. “She’s waiting.”
He lowered the handle and pushed the door open.
The room was small and smelt medicinal. The bed took up most of the floor space, with just enough room left for a chair and the cot beside the bed for the baby. Green and red tinsel decorated the pale blue walls, left over from Christmas just three days before.
Blair was lying propped in the bed, her skin paler than usual and her hair lank and still showing signs of the sweat that had soaked it not long ago. The pink blanketed bundle, held securely to her chest, moved for a moment as she turned to look at him.
She smiled wearily and resettled her arms so that she could reach out one hand to him.
Chuck closed the door behind him and took small, slow steps to the bed.
Blair laughed breathily and took his hand. “Don’t look so scared.”
“I’m not scared,” he said, but his stomach clenched.
Chuck eased himself onto the bed beside her hip and smoothed her hair off her face. “You okay?”
She nodded and leant into his hand. “Sore, but happy. You’ve made me so happy, Chuck.”
“That’s all I ever wanted to do.”
She smirked. “Liar. In the early days, you just wanted to sleep with me.”
He sighed. “Those were very early days. They don’t count.”
“They always count.”
The blanket moved again, drawing Chuck’s gaze to it. All he could see was the tip of a tiny, button nose and a tuft of chocolate-coloured hair. He was starting to feel light-headed, but he braced a hand on Blair’s other side and reached forward to pull the blanket away.
All he could think as he did it, was, Please, let her look like Blair.
And she did, at least to him. Apart from the shape of the baby’s eyes, her face was perfectly Blair’s in miniature. The face scrunched up, the Cupid’s bow lips opened in a tiny yawn and Chuck felt his stomach drop as his heart swelled.
He felt his whole world swift and then tip towards the girl. He was hers to command. If she wanted something, he would buy it; if she wanted to go somewhere, he would take her; if she was in trouble, he would help her. Nothing else mattered anymore.
It was only a moment before the fear crept up and took hold. His head began to swim. What if he did something wrong? What if he hurt her? What if he turned into his father? What if she hated him?
“Chuck.”
Blair’s voice sounded distant, though he knew that she was right beside him. The hand that landed on his cheek was soft, a contrast to the stubble that had sprung up since they’d arrived at the hospital what felt like eons ago.
“Chuck."
She was louder this time and he forced his eyes up to look at her. Her hand travelled around and tangled in his hair. She pulled him forward until their foreheads met gently and they were breathing the same air.
He felt her eyelashes brush his face when she blinked and met his eyes. “You will be an amazing father. You don’t have to worry.”
“How do you know?”
She smiled. “I know you. When you love someone, you love them with your whole heart. Our daughter is going to be the most spoilt little girl on the Upper East Side. In all of New York, even!”
A smile tugged at Chuck’s lips before he could stop it and he laughed.
“So,” he said, “did you finally settle on a name?”
“Of course! She will be Amelia Marguerite Waldorf-Bass.”
His smile dropped. “Amelia?”
A small frown appeared on her face. “Yes. You know I’ve been planning to use that for months. It was the middle name I was having trouble with.”
“But…I offered you other names.”
“I know, but I liked Amelia best. I hope you’re not too put out. ‘Marguerite’ was one of your suggestions, remember.”
“Right, of course.”
Chuck leaned back and Blair turned to the baby.
He had to tell her, he knew he should, but how could he do it now, when she was so happy? Would it really make any difference? The baby was ‘Amelia’ in Blair’s mind now. Nothing else would do.
But he couldn’t call her that. He just couldn’t. The guilt alone would kill him. He’d have to think of something else, a nickname.
And, he decided as all the Humphrey’s and Nate knocked and entered the room, he would not tell Blair the truth. It would only complicate matters, and it wasn’t like she was going to find out from someone else.
Blair proudly announced the baby’s name to their waiting friends and every time it was uttered, Chuck felt a sharp stab in his gut.
“Mia.”
Everyone fell silent and Blair turned to stare at her husband, who hadn’t even realised he was going to say the name aloud until he had already done so.
“Mia?” said Blair.
“Yes. Of course you can put her full name on the birth certificate, but ‘Mia’ is shorter. Much easier for every day use.”
“‘Amelia’ isn’t that big a mouthful.”
He sighed. “Please, Blair.”
She looked confused but ultimately nodded. “All right. If it means that much to you, we can call her Mia.”
She went back to her conversation with Serena and Chuck sighed again, this time in relief. He smoothed a finger down the baby’s cheek and then over her palm. Tiny fingers clasped tightly around the tip and the heaviness in the bottom of his stomach lifted again.
He had Blair, and now he had Mia.
The past didn’t matter anymore.
- - -
A/N: This was written as a mini-experiment in flashbacks.
Author: ladyknight_fic
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters: Chuck Bass, Blair Waldorf
Pairing: Chuck/Blair
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Summary: Her face was perfectly Blair's in miniature. The Cupid's bow lips opened in a tiny yawn and Chuck felt his stomach drop. His whole world shifted and then tipped. "Amelia Marguerite Waldorf-Bass."
Spoilers: Seasons 1 and 2
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 3955
Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Gossip Girl books or TV series. These characters are the property of the CW Network and I am not profiting from their use in any way.
A/N: This is the oneshot prequel to Chasing Butterflies. They can be read in any order, but you don't have to read both.
- - -
Chuck Bass had never really seen Blair Waldorf until the night of the first Victrola victory party.
He had looked. Of course, he had looked, but what had he seen? Pale skin…brown hair…brown eyes…a cunning mind…an ally…Nate’s girlfriend…Serena’s best friend…Queen B. Nothing impressive.
If Nate hadn’t had a prior claim, he supposed he would have tried something with her, just because he was Chuck Bass and that was what he did. But Nate did have a prior claim, so he had left her alone.
They were two different types of people, from two different worlds, and it was all summed up in their names. She was a Waldorf, old-money, respected, admired. He was a Bass, the new kid on the block, the playboy, the boozer. They were opposites and, despite the opposites attract principle he remembered from school, she was repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Someone had to make school life interesting.
“Where’s Nate?”
“I think we just broke up.”
There had been a strange mixture of shock and despair on her face as she said the words. But there was defiance as well, and Chuck knew she would be less circumspect about her usual alcohol limit when she entered the club. But that was fine by him. He’d be a hypocrite if he began spouting about the dangers of using alcohol to dull pain. So he had followed her in. He was the host of this party, but he was going to stick to her side like glue the whole night. She needed someone to watch out for her and Nate wasn’t that person anymore. Serena was probably over in Brooklyn with Cabbage Patch.
And though he didn’t know then exactly what he had set in motion just by letting her enter Victrola, he knew that looking out for her didn’t bother him. He did like Blair after all, even if she was too uptight for his tastes.
She had grabbed a bottle of champagne and planted herself on the couch right in front of the stage. She surprised him when she proceeded to drink with sips only slightly larger than her usual measured ones. Maybe alcohol wouldn’t be her outlet that night after all.
He leant back and slumped against the couch back, while she sat forward on the edge. Her gaze was riveted on the dancers, almost as if she was fascinated by them and what they were doing.
“You’re ten times hotter than any of those girls.”
He wasn’t lying. The women on stage had nothing on the girl beside him. If he was honest, not even Serena could match Blair. Serena was all sunshine and energy and hair. Blair, on the other hand, was more subdued, darker, and easier to overlook. But Chuck liked that about her. She forced people to notice.
“You really don’t think I’ll go up there.”
“I know you won’t do it.”
He said it to challenge her, although a part of him truly believed what he said. She was Blair Waldorf after all, it wasn’t in her to get up on stage in a burlesque club and dance for everyone watching.
When she put down her champagne flute and jumped up, he was surprised to find himself proud of her. She was committed now; she wouldn’t back out.
He wasn’t disappointed. She bounded up the steps and faced the crowd. She swayed gently with the music and slowly pulled her headband out of her hair. The cheers of the crowd grew louder when she flung the jewel-studded material towards him.
She reached for the zipper of her dress and Chuck sat forward. She wouldn’t…would she? But she did. Smoothly, tauntingly, she pulled the zip down and let the dress fall to the floor.
Chuck knew his jaw had dropped a little, but he didn’t care. He grabbed his champagne and stood, unable to take his eyes off her. Standing in just her slip, she turned her back to the crowd, raised her arms and increased the movement of her hips.
She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes.
“Watch me,” those eyes seemed to say. “I’m doing it and people are enjoying it. You are enjoying it. Can you see? I told you so.”
“Who’s that girl?”
“I have no idea.”
And he hadn’t. He really, truly hadn’t. The girl on the stage wasn’t Blair, not the Blair he knew, not the Blair Nate and Serena knew, not the Blair her mother knew. She was a stranger, but he liked her, her boldness, her seductiveness, her confidence.
But it was Blair, he had to remind himself, the Blair that was always simmering away just under the surface but never came out to play for fear of disapproval. No one had ever seen this Blair but him and that made his stomach flip.
He gulped and Blair must have seen it because she smiled cheekily. She must have known what affect she was having on him.
He took a fortifying gulp of champagne and Blair, with half-hooded eyes, slid into a crouch. She ran a hand up her bare leg and grabbed the beads dangling around her neck. She twirled them around and over her fingers and then grinned, straight at him.
He grinned back, because there was no way he couldn’t. That look of shock and despair that she’d had when she got out of the limo was gone. She was actually having fun, being free. She was happy. He, Chuck Bass, had given her that. Not Nate, not Serena. Him.
She continued dancing and, when she was done, bounding back off the stage to huge applause. She stood before him and he handed her, her champagne. They clinked glasses and drank, and she laughed as she held out her glass and he topped it up.
They were both drunk when they got in the limo at the end of the night. Not stumbling around, slurring words drunk, but drunk enough.
“You were amazing out there.”
Chuck didn’t offer compliments when they weren’t due, but there was no denying that Blair deserved it. He knew that, for the rest of his life, he’d remember the performance she’d put on. How could he not? The real Blair, the one he’d got to see, was the Blair he wanted.
She slid across the seat and he raised his eyes to see her.
Her skin, not just pale, but soft and smooth; her hair, not brown, but chocolate-coloured and thick; her eyes, still brown, but smouldering now and deep enough to lose himself in; a cunning mind that matched his own and could run him ragged; an ally, a friend; Nate’s girlfriend, but not anymore, because stupid Nathaniel had been too blind to see her, to appreciate her; Serena’s best friend, but Serena wasn’t here now, he was; Queen B…no, not Queen B, just…Blair.
He leant in first. He wanted to kiss her, more than he’d wanted to kiss any other girl in his life.
She tasted like champagne and strawberries.
It lasted just a moment and the hand he didn’t realise she’d grabbed tightened around her small fingers.
“You sure?”
Their gazes locked; he had to know that she wanted this. It had to be her choice because it meant everything to her, and if he went ahead and she hated him forever, he’d never be able to live with himself.
Her answer was in her kiss. It was forceful and decided; there was no hesitation.
He touched her everywhere and sighed when her fingers tangled in his hair. He was gentle and held her hand the entire time. And when it was over and she had gone up to her apartment, he knew that he wasn’t going ready give her up, not just yet, not when she fit so perfectly in his arms.
The next night, at her birthday party, he’d wanted to kill Nate for making her so sad again. Even if a part of him was glad that Nate really was out of the game, the sight of her tears made his stomach clench painfully.
When he went into the bedroom to give her the necklace, he honestly didn’t expect to sleep with her. He was there to comfort her, to make her happy again, like he had the night before. But when she turned to him again, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.
That was when the pattern started. In public, they would behave almost exactly the same as they always had. There was less bickering, yes, and maybe a little more ignoring, because if they paid too much attention to each other they were likely to give away whatever it was that had sprung up between them.
Behind closed doors was a different matter entirely. He showed her all sorts of things, and she learnt some on her own. She learnt, for example, that she had him wrapped around her little finger, at least when they were in bed. He couldn’t do anything that wouldn’t please her.
“You don’t want Nate to find out, and I don’t want anyone to.”
The secrecy didn’t bother him, at least not at first. Half of him wanted to be a good friend and not hurt Nate, but the other half wanted everyone to know that she belonged to him now.
He knew she must have been ashamed of him when she wouldn’t let him escort her to Cotillion, even though he offered “just as a friend”. When she still refused, he had told her that it was better that way, and reminded himself that he couldn’t afford to make Nate suspicious anyway. Her eagerness to go along with him, though, had cut like a knife.
That should have been the first clue.
He never wanted to ruin her Cotillion, he just wanted to throw Nate off the scent so they could go on as they had. But everything had backfired. Maybe he should have told her what he was doing, but how was he to know she’d react so badly?
When he saw her with Nate, there was nothing else to do but leave. The thought of them together made him sick.
That was the second clue, but he missed that too.
He had her, he lost her, he had her, he lost her. It was endless, and during those times when she was his, he dreaded waking up every morning. He knew the end was coming again, and then it would be weeks before she’d even look at him, months before they spoke.
Senior year was hell. When she brought that English idiot to New York Chuck knew it was only a matter of time before she sent him packing again. But the waiting…
Even just watching her faun over him at the White Party was too much. But then she’d given him the chance.
“Three words, eight letters. Say it, and I’m yours.”
She would forgive what he’d done to her, if he could just say what she needed to hear. But he couldn’t. Not then.
The second pattern began. The competition, always trying to get the other to give in.
“I love you.”
She said it, out loud, for anyone to hear. But he didn’t want to hear it then, when his father had just died. Everyone he loved left him. His mother, his father. Blair would too, given time, and he couldn’t bear that. So he turned away, hurt her before she could hurt him.
He had given in, in the end. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to fight her. So he went, and Dorota let him in, and Blair came, and she held him, just like he’d wanted her to.
“I’m sorry for everything. You deserve much better. Don’t come looking for me.”
He lost her again, because he gave her up. He was in a downward spiral, he could tell. He had to leave, save her from being dragged down with him. If they were both down there in the darkness, how would they get out again? He would need her later, to help him out, but for now, he had to keep her away from anything that could hurt her, and that included him.
“I’ll always be here. I don’t want you going anywhere. I couldn’t bear it. Whatever you want to do to yourself…please don’t do that to me.”
Chuck was right. Maybe Uncle Jack had been the one to retrieve him but it was Blair who reached down into the abyss, pulled him out and set him on his feet. It was Blair who fought for him and stood beside him.
And he repaid her how?
“I’m done.”
When the bouquet of peonies hit the floor of the lift and the doors closed, blocking her from view, he knew it was time to grow up. He had lost everything and no one could make things right but him.
He worked hard, he made amends, he helped his friends. Suddenly people liked him again, maybe even respected him. Finally, he was doing something right.
“Every time I try to move on, you’re there.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Look down deep, into the soul I know you have, and tell me if what you feel for me is real, or if it’s just a game.”
He knew he had grown up when he let her go. Sitting at that bar, Georgina in the other room, Blair with tears in her eyes, he let her go.
If he broke her heart then, he didn’t let himself worry about it. It hurt her, yes, but it would be nothing compared to what else he could do, what he had already done. Nate was, had always been, the better choice for her. Nate couldn’t hurt her like Chuck could.
But Nate couldn’t make her happy like Chuck could either, which was why Chuck sabotaged Prom. Even if she wasn’t part of his life anymore, he needed to make her happy. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t know it was him. It didn’t matter that she would be leaving with Nate and spending the night with him. It didn’t matter that Blair and Nate would get married and have kids, so long as she was happy.
She didn’t marry Nate, though.
“I love you too.”
She married him.
Chuck leaned his head back against the hospital wall and tightened the grip he had on his coffee.
It was hard to believe that everything they’d been through had led to this.
He glanced down the hallway and watched Serena battle with the twins’ baby carriage. Twins. No had been able to believe it. Still, Jack and Ella were good kids.
Chuck mouth pulled to the side. As good as kids just two months old could be anyway. As far as he was concerned, all they seemed to do was make mess and cry. When he’d stupidly said that out loud to Blair he’d received a cuff around the ear and the stern warning that if he ever said that about their child, he’d be sleeping on the couch for the next ten years.
But Chuck knew that no child of theirs would be messy and noisy. Both he and Blair had been very accommodating children, perfection personified. That hadn’t lasted, of course, but that wasn’t their fault.
He raised the cheap Styrofoam cup in his hand and eyed it. Pursing his lips, Chuck took a small sip of coffee and wanted to gag. The liquid had the same texture as sludge, and tasted about as good.
The sound of footsteps reached Chuck’s ears and he looked up again.
“What are you doing down here by yourself?” Nate asked.
Chuck shrugged. “Reminiscing.”
Nate glanced at the closed door on Chuck’s other side. “Aren’t you going to go in?”
Chuck glanced at the door as well and chuckled. “I guess I’ll have to soon. If I don’t, she’ll come out here looking for me, even though the doctors told her to stay in bed.”
Now Nate looked confused. “But…don’t you want to go in?”
“Of course, but don’t you see?” Chuck pushed away from the wall and flung the full cup of coffee into a trash can on the opposite side of the hall. He turned back to Nate. “Out here things are as much the same as they’ve ever been. The moment I go in there,” and he pointed at Blair’s private room, “I’ll be a father. A father, Nathaniel. That’s…”
He let out a ragged breath and tugged at his tie while Nate nodded sympathetically.
“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s crazy that we’re all gonna be parents. I mean, Serena and Dan already are, and now you and Blair, and Jenny…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Rufus forgiven you yet?”
Chuck was, of course, referring to Jenny’s very unexpected and very unplanned pregnancy. Nate, who had always liked and respected Rufus, had been filled with terror at the thought of having to tell him what had happened. Jenny had only added to those feelings when she’d said that marriage wasn’t necessary just yet and had refused Nate’s offer on the grounds that he shouldn’t have to ask just because they were having a kid. Though Jenny was now at the end of her fifth month, Nate had yet to look Rufus in the eye.
“‘Forgive’ might be too strong a word. I think he’s moved into the acceptance phase, though.”
Chuck nodded and his gaze wandered to the still closed door. Nate clapped him on the shoulder.
“Go in and see her. You know you want to.”
Nate turned and strolled back to the rest of the group and Chuck approached the door. He set his hand on the handle and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly and then took another.
His hand tightened and he swallowed. “Come on, Bass,” he said softly. “She’s waiting.”
He lowered the handle and pushed the door open.
The room was small and smelt medicinal. The bed took up most of the floor space, with just enough room left for a chair and the cot beside the bed for the baby. Green and red tinsel decorated the pale blue walls, left over from Christmas just three days before.
Blair was lying propped in the bed, her skin paler than usual and her hair lank and still showing signs of the sweat that had soaked it not long ago. The pink blanketed bundle, held securely to her chest, moved for a moment as she turned to look at him.
She smiled wearily and resettled her arms so that she could reach out one hand to him.
Chuck closed the door behind him and took small, slow steps to the bed.
Blair laughed breathily and took his hand. “Don’t look so scared.”
“I’m not scared,” he said, but his stomach clenched.
Chuck eased himself onto the bed beside her hip and smoothed her hair off her face. “You okay?”
She nodded and leant into his hand. “Sore, but happy. You’ve made me so happy, Chuck.”
“That’s all I ever wanted to do.”
She smirked. “Liar. In the early days, you just wanted to sleep with me.”
He sighed. “Those were very early days. They don’t count.”
“They always count.”
The blanket moved again, drawing Chuck’s gaze to it. All he could see was the tip of a tiny, button nose and a tuft of chocolate-coloured hair. He was starting to feel light-headed, but he braced a hand on Blair’s other side and reached forward to pull the blanket away.
All he could think as he did it, was, Please, let her look like Blair.
And she did, at least to him. Apart from the shape of the baby’s eyes, her face was perfectly Blair’s in miniature. The face scrunched up, the Cupid’s bow lips opened in a tiny yawn and Chuck felt his stomach drop as his heart swelled.
He felt his whole world swift and then tip towards the girl. He was hers to command. If she wanted something, he would buy it; if she wanted to go somewhere, he would take her; if she was in trouble, he would help her. Nothing else mattered anymore.
It was only a moment before the fear crept up and took hold. His head began to swim. What if he did something wrong? What if he hurt her? What if he turned into his father? What if she hated him?
“Chuck.”
Blair’s voice sounded distant, though he knew that she was right beside him. The hand that landed on his cheek was soft, a contrast to the stubble that had sprung up since they’d arrived at the hospital what felt like eons ago.
“Chuck."
She was louder this time and he forced his eyes up to look at her. Her hand travelled around and tangled in his hair. She pulled him forward until their foreheads met gently and they were breathing the same air.
He felt her eyelashes brush his face when she blinked and met his eyes. “You will be an amazing father. You don’t have to worry.”
“How do you know?”
She smiled. “I know you. When you love someone, you love them with your whole heart. Our daughter is going to be the most spoilt little girl on the Upper East Side. In all of New York, even!”
A smile tugged at Chuck’s lips before he could stop it and he laughed.
“So,” he said, “did you finally settle on a name?”
“Of course! She will be Amelia Marguerite Waldorf-Bass.”
His smile dropped. “Amelia?”
A small frown appeared on her face. “Yes. You know I’ve been planning to use that for months. It was the middle name I was having trouble with.”
“But…I offered you other names.”
“I know, but I liked Amelia best. I hope you’re not too put out. ‘Marguerite’ was one of your suggestions, remember.”
“Right, of course.”
Chuck leaned back and Blair turned to the baby.
He had to tell her, he knew he should, but how could he do it now, when she was so happy? Would it really make any difference? The baby was ‘Amelia’ in Blair’s mind now. Nothing else would do.
But he couldn’t call her that. He just couldn’t. The guilt alone would kill him. He’d have to think of something else, a nickname.
And, he decided as all the Humphrey’s and Nate knocked and entered the room, he would not tell Blair the truth. It would only complicate matters, and it wasn’t like she was going to find out from someone else.
Blair proudly announced the baby’s name to their waiting friends and every time it was uttered, Chuck felt a sharp stab in his gut.
“Mia.”
Everyone fell silent and Blair turned to stare at her husband, who hadn’t even realised he was going to say the name aloud until he had already done so.
“Mia?” said Blair.
“Yes. Of course you can put her full name on the birth certificate, but ‘Mia’ is shorter. Much easier for every day use.”
“‘Amelia’ isn’t that big a mouthful.”
He sighed. “Please, Blair.”
She looked confused but ultimately nodded. “All right. If it means that much to you, we can call her Mia.”
She went back to her conversation with Serena and Chuck sighed again, this time in relief. He smoothed a finger down the baby’s cheek and then over her palm. Tiny fingers clasped tightly around the tip and the heaviness in the bottom of his stomach lifted again.
He had Blair, and now he had Mia.
The past didn’t matter anymore.
- - -
A/N: This was written as a mini-experiment in flashbacks.